


Training Date

by buriedbybooks



Category: Leverage
Genre: Canon Compliant, Communication, Feelings, Motivational Talks, Multi, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23954437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buriedbybooks/pseuds/buriedbybooks
Summary: Periodically, Parker still brought flyers for motivational speakers to her partners.
Relationships: Alec Hardison & Parker & Eliot Spencer, Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 8
Kudos: 136





	Training Date

**Author's Note:**

> A friend sent me a list of OT3 prompts. None of them quite worked for me until I realized that for Parker, I needed to take it apart, twist it around, and fit the pieces back together. I also promised said friend a bribe.

“You actually want to go to that?”

Parker continued to hold out the flyer for the motivational speaker, completely undaunted by Eliot’s scowl and crossed arms. This version of Eliot’s arm cross was more along the lines of Hardison’s “Seriously?!” and was a posture she equated more with exasperation than actual anger.

“Parker.” Eliot’s frown turned slightly more quizzical.

“It looks useful,” she eventually replied, tired of waiting out Eliot’s stare.

Eliot unbent enough to sigh and take the flyer from her. “How to Communicate in Relationships: Tips and Tricks for Understanding and being Understood,” he read aloud. “Parker, we’re just fine at communicating.”

He tried handing her back the flyer, but Parker didn’t take it, shaking her head. “We need to. We,” Parker gestured between them, “don’t do words well. Alec does. Alec needs them.”

“Alec,” Eliot’s voice gentled over the name in a way that only happened when he used it. “Alec understands even when we don’t use words well.”

“But we should try to be better,” Parker argued. “Better is better.”

Parker almost started to fidget under Eliot’s stare, but she resisted and glared right back. This was important. She needed him to see that this was important.

They were still at an impasse when Hardison walked into the kitchen, making a b-line for the fridge and a new bottle of orange soda. It was only when he had the drink in hand that he turned and took in the situation. Parker heard him approach from her left and stand equidistant from her and Eliot.

“What’s with the stand off? Is it about this?” Hardison plucked the flyer from Eliot’s hand, even though the hitter made an aborted gesture to hide it. Parker watched Hardison read the title, then open it up and peruse the contents. “Parker?”

Parker could feel the mulish twisting of her mouth. She hadn’t been going to tell Hardison about the talk at all--it was tonight, a night that he normally set aside for playing with his orc friends, and it was something she had wanted to do for him. It wasn’t as if Hardison needed to go.

Hardison looked at her expression and then at Eliot. Parker kept her gaze on the hacker, so she missed whatever it was that made Hardison nod.

“This training, babe? Somethin’ to help us when we end up on a grift?” Hardison asked, his face brightening up at the thought. “You gonna let me do my thing more often if we go? Wouldn’t have thought you’da pay for somethin’ like this,” he added, flipping the flyer to the back and showing her the price list. “You already steal the tickets?”

Parker shrugged, “I can do that.” She decided against saying that she already had two of them; if she didn’t tell them, they’d never know that she didn’t take the third one at the same time as the first two.

Eliot growled a little and then propped himself against a counter, his crossed arms more relaxed now than earlier. “We should at least make it interestin’,” he protested. “We all know Parker could steal ‘em.”

Parker grinned, “Training in more way than one. Hardison, you have to lift your ticket. Eliot, you have to hack the system to get one.” She should have thought of making this a team building thing--something they did together--earlier, before approaching the hitter with the flyer.

Eliot’s smile was a reward. “And what do you have to do to get yours, Sweetheart?”

“Grift,” Hardison answered before she could.

He was also smiling, and Parker felt the tightness in her gut ease at seeing both men relaxed and happy. This was why she wanted to go, so that she didn’t cause the tension when she didn’t mean to.

“No coachin’ allowed this time,” Eliot challenged.

“Fastest one to get back here with a ticket gets to choose dinner afterward,” Hardison added.

“I’m not eating Chinese take out again this week.” Eliot’s glare didn’t work on Hardison either.

“You think you’re going to lose?” The hacker’s raised eyebrow was calculated to get Eliot to take the bait.

“No.” Eliot’s growl rumbled through them both. “You’re still sloppy on lifts unless there’s a distraction.”

Parker hummed to herself. She thought it likely that Eliot could get his ticket faster than Hardison on this one, if only because Eliot could do so without having to go out and hunt down someone with a physical ticket to lift. Not that she was going to stop the two men from having one of their competitions. She also was not going to help either of them on this one.

“So you’ll choose dinner… if you win,” Hardison prodded calmly.

“Fine.”

“You’re on, man.” Hardison grinned and extended a fist to the hitter. They exchanged one of their complex fist bumps, which Hardison ended by pulling Eliot away from the counter and in for a brief, rough hug. Parker could hear Eliot’s grumble, but knew it was for show.

“The talk’s tonight,” Parker reminded them. “Come back here when you have your ticket, and it needs to be done within... “ Parker checked the clock on the microwave. “Four hours.”

“Plenty of time, babe.” Hardison smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek before he sauntered out of the kitchen.

Parker heard Hardison heading out of the apartment and down toward the brewpub a few moments later. Knowing the hacker could no longer hear them, she tilted her head as she looked at Eliot. “You’re not complaining.”

“No. I should, but…” Eliot shrugged. “Not exactly what I want in a night out, but I’m lookin’ forward to choosin’ the restaurant for once.”

Parker smiled back at him as Eliot took her hand and squeezed it gently. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Sweetheart. Now, I’d better go get a ticket.”

Parker stood in the kitchen for a moment after Eliot left, debating which of her partners she wanted to watch at work. Hearing a “Dammit, Hardison!” echoing back down the hallway, she decided that seeing how Hardison was doing with lifts would be more fun than listening to Eliot curse at the computer. If she stayed and tossed popcorn at Eliot each time he swore, that would be an unfair distraction.

*** 

Hardison pulled out his phone as soon as he made it into the pub and took a seat at one of the stools. He distractedly waived away Amy’s inquiry about whether he needed anything and started pulling up information on the talk that Parker wanted to go to.

 _How to Communicate in Relationships: Tips and Tricks for Understanding and being Understood._ Hardison paused at the title for a moment. This was Parker, who sometimes had trouble with words and meaning and understanding people. She caught a lot more subtext now, but Hardison knew she still found it frustrating and confusing sometimes. Especially when it came to him. Parker and Eliot spoke more with their bodies; Hardison was the one who talked. To him, this was one of the things that made them work--they were so different, but they knew each other and could anticipate what each one needed. They all had rough edges that when reoriented, fit perfectly. Parker knew this too--she was a master of figuring out how puzzles fit together--but sometimes she saw a piece that was missing and went to fill it. Hardison figured this was one of those times.

Pulling up the advertisement page, Hardison noted that the tickets weren’t really all that expensive. But Parker still had a thing about money, and apparently stealing was more romantic than buying. Hardison was completely alright with buying things that made his life, or the lives of his partners, better. But he had agreed to turning this into a training exercise, so he would do this her way.

Since the talk was today, Hardison knew that he had a pretty good chance that some of the attendees would already have their tickets on them--in a purse or a pocket, ready for the event this evening. The question became how to find the appropriate mark for a lift.

“Comp tickets, comp tickets…” Hardison muttered under his breath as he pulled up information on the speaker. He could hack the Eventbrite for a list of names and addresses, but that was Eliot’s task for this one. And the speaker had a FaceBook page with the talk listed as an event. Look at all those people putting their RSVP out in public… Hardison chuckled and shook his head. Now he had a list of people who were advertising to anyone who cared to look that they already had their tickets.

A quick cross-check of the social media pages of the attendees and he located a coffee shop that many of them frequented. Fish in a barrell. Parker would be so proud of him.

Hardison waved at Amy and headed out. Time to lift a ticket, and if he got to grift a bit in the process, so much the better.

*** 

Eliot cracked his knuckles and loosened up his neck. Hardison had changed the password on Eliot’s laptop again, just because the hacker thought it was a good challenge for him. It was probably also why Hardions had been so smug and sure that he’d win this particular challenge. A few curses later and he figured out the new password that Hardison had gifted him.

Finally, Eliot clicked on the Mr. Punchy icon that Hardison had put on the desktop of his computer and watched it pull up a series of scripts. It really wasn’t a fair competition--even with the hacker’s new roadblock--not when Hardison had taught Eliot hacking scripts for most major ticketing websites. It was a part of hacking they agreed that Eliot would actually use because, of the three of them, he was the one who wanted to go to concerts on a regular basis. And if he “stole” the tickets, Parker was more likely to agree to going. She still said after every concert that she preferred listening to him sing, or Hardison play violin. It made Eliot feel warm every time.

He searched for the talk-- _How to Communicate in Relationships: Tips and Tricks for Understanding and being Understood_ \--and found the Eventbrite link.

Eliot paused for a moment before clicking the link. He had been trying to avoid thinking about why Parker thought this was necessary--what moment or puzzle piece had flipped in her mind to convince her that they needed to talk better. She had said this was for Hardison. Had she--or he--missed some important conversational clue? What words were they missing?

Knowing that he could drive himself even more crazy than his partners already did, Eliot set that line of thought aside and slowly worked through the steps of hacking into Eventbrite. Just a few minutes later, he clicked print and heard the ticket printing out in the next room. One phone call later, and he’d made dinner reservations at a restaurant that one of Toby’s students had recently opened. Satisfied with his life, Eliot grabbed the ticket, a beer from the fridge, and then settled into the couch to watch some MMA until his partners came home.

*** 

Parker listened to her partners bicker over whether the presenter had known what she was talking about and took another bite of pasta. Eliot was still annoyed that the talk had dismissed body language so thoroughly, and Hardison was snarking at the presenter’s recommendation to stick to “I feel” statements. Parker agreed with both of them--the talk really hadn’t been interesting or useful. She’d entertained herself well enough by picking out people in the audience and determining as much as she could about them from her limited vantage point.

There had been one thing that the presenter had said, though, that stuck with her. _Be sincere. And don’t be afraid to let that make you vulnerable._ These weren’t necessarily things that she struggled with as much these days, but Parker knew that they were important clues to what had been bothering her. She twisted them, trying to figure out what she was missing.

_Don’t be afraid._

Sometimes she was, but Parker had learned to be alright with that. It was something she had needed to face when Hardison was buried alive, when Eliot disappeared for days on end after a late night phone call. It was hard, but they were hers and she wouldn’t trade that regardless of how it made her feel when they were in danger.

 _Sincere._

Both Eliot and Hardison were good with sincere. They could tease, bicker, poke, prod, but she always knew when they were being absolutely intent. Parker gave as good as she got, sometimes more physically, but that was part of the fun too. She knew that both men could read her when she was serious, and respected it. The same way she respected them.

Parker took another bite of pasta and hummed to herself. She smiled when her partners checked in with her. Hardison asked with a twitch of his lips, and Eliot used his eyebrows. Parker was happy they read her correctly and didn’t push her to contribute to their play fight. Idly, she wondered whether they were intentionally trying to work the other to the point of breaking. This type of breaking could be fun--unrestrained laughter, flummoxed expressions, a “Dammit, Hardison!”, or a long devolving rant. Usually breaking was a reset, and she could feel the gentleness and relaxation that followed.

_Be vulnerable._

Alec was the best at being vulnerable. It was a gift, one she knew that both she and Eliot treasured. It was something that she struggled with sometimes, and she knew it was the same for Eliot. It wasn’t that either of them lacked trust. That was never a question. It was that they didn’t have the practice, and it was uncomfortable to show that vulnerability.

Parker smothered a grin with another mouthful of pasta when Hardison ended up derailing into a rant that made no sense to her. From Eliot’s expression, it didn’t make much sense to him either. He was leaning forward though, as if what he really wanted to do was reach out and drag Hardison in to stop the flow of words. Eliot wouldn’t though. That was for them. Not for public.

The pieces clicked.

Words. Things she didn’t say much, even when she thought them with every gesture. Words that Hardison would give them with no hesitation. Words that Eliot sublimated in endearments and cooking until they were alone.

Setting down her fork, Parker reached out and took their hands, interlacing them so that her slim fingers contrasted against Hardison’s dark skin and were dwarfed in Eliot’s strong hand. “Thanks for tonight.” They weren’t the words she hadn’t been saying. But now she knew what they were, and she saw that Eliot and Hardison understood.

“Of course, babe, any time, any where,” Hardison assured her with a smile.

“You figured out what was missin’?” Eliot asked. Parker could feel the gentle back and forth of the hacker’s callused thumb rubbing over the pusle in her wrist.

“Yeah,” Parker agreed. She put the words in order, and saved them for later.


End file.
